


Antidote

by chaosmanor



Series: On the Inevitability of Falling [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-01
Updated: 2007-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:17:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosmanor/pseuds/chaosmanor





	Antidote

It was night, and LA was yellow in the streetlights, the kind of toxic yellow that made Orlando feel even queasier than the plane flight had. God, he hated air travel. Beanie had the right idea.

Now, there was somewhere he didn't want to go, so Orlando jammed his sunglasses more firmly up his scalp and tried to pay attention to what Kris was saying.

"... that's on Thursday. Tomorrow, you've got a lawyer's appointment at ten, lunch with Pat, and you really need to call your mum, she's getting pissed off."

"Can you remind me of all this tomorrow?" Orlando asked. "Including the bit about ringing my mum?"

Kris gave him one of those glances, which Orlando ignored. "How's Sidi?" he asked.

"Sidi's the bounciest dog I've ever owned," Kris said, and Orlando slumped lower in his seat.

 

It was blissful to be home again, especially since Kris just dumped Orlando's other case in the hall and left. There'd be food in the fridge, clean clothes in the wardrobe, clean sheets on his bed, and blissful blissful silence.

He fell through the shower, pulled on familiar worn sweats, and collapsed onto the bed, phone in his hand.

He got Kate's voicemail, neither of them ever answered their phones. Hell, Orlando relied on Kris to sift through the backlog, whenever Kris was around.

"Hey, babe," he said. "I'm home, at long-fucking-last. Wanna come over?"

 

This was what he needed so desperately, to be with someone who knew him, he needed to be in his own home, with Kate, making love. Just like they were, Kate's body so slender and smooth, her skin like marshmallow, smelling of grass.

It was so easy to be with her.

 

Afterwards, she curled up, head on his chest, chin pressing too hard against his sternum. "You OK?" she asked, and he could hear concern in her voice.

"Guess so," he said, and it was probably true.

"Did you see him?" Kate asked, lifting her head, forehead creased with worry. God, it was good to be loved.

"No," Orlando replied. "We didn't, um, overlap. I was invited to his after-party, but Pat said absolutely no public contact, and it wasn't as if I'd want to see him in private."

Kate's eyes, without her contacts, were watery blue, and her gaze unflinching. "Something bad happened?" she asked, only it was a statement, and Orlando found some kind of comfort in the fact that he was as transparent to her as she was to him.

"Just a fan," he said, managing to supress the swallow that would betray his misery. "Someone got me to autograph one of his books. That book."

Kate levered herself up his chest and pressed her lips against his. She was so clean and smooth to kiss, so willing and compliant. She never fought him, never yelled, never fucked him, never hurt him. She was his antidote, her mouthwash rinsed away the taste of Viggo's kisses, her kindness succoured him from the abrasion of Viggo's hands, Viggo's mind, the past.

He rolled them over, their mouths joined, and slid back into her. Kate didn't make him wear condoms, she trusted him, never tore at his mind or his skin. He loved Kate for all things she wasn't.


End file.
